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Updated: September 18, 2025
"You cannot say less," said Eylwin Jones. "Pay they ought for this, the irreligious couple. As the English proverb 'There's no gratitude in the poor." "Another serious piece of picking have I," continued Harries. "I saw Tim sticking on hoarding. 'What, dear me, I mumbled between the teeth I don't speech to myself, man, as usual. The Apostles did, now. They wrote their minds.
On the following Wednesday Aunt Julia arrived. Mrs Mannering-Phipps, my aunt Julia, is, I think, the most dignified person I know. She lacks Aunt Agatha's punch, but in a quiet way she has always contrived to make me feel, from boyhood up, that I was a poor worm. Not that she harries me like Aunt Agatha.
A man must have something to grumble about; and if he can’t complain that his wife harries him to death with her perversity and ill-humour, he must complain that she wears him out with her kindness and gentleness.’ ‘But why complain at all, unless because you are tired and dissatisfied?’ ‘To excuse my own failings, to be sure.
Harries, and to give Winnie the wisdom, understanding, and obedience which enable one to serve faithfully those who sit in the first pews in the chapel. Now Winnie found favor in the sight of her mistress, whose personal maid she was made and whose habits she copied.
Now, as ever, he is the scourge of his more settled neighbours, whose fields he harries and whose families he murders. He lives by robbery and theft; too idle to work himself, he plunders those who do. A strong government forces him to hide himself in the depth of the wilderness; when the countries that skirt the desert fall into decay he emerges from his retreat like a swarm of flies.
She harries him out. She makes him read to her and ride with her. She makes him discuss all sorts of things with her you'd never think Aldous would discuss her lovers and her love affairs, and being in love! it's extraordinary the way she drives him round. At Easter she and her mother were staying at the Court, and one night Betty told me she was bored to death.
Sunday mornings Tim put a white india-rubber collar under the Adam's apple in his throat, and Martha covered her long, thin body in black garments, and drew her few hairs tightly from her forehead. Though they clad and comported themselves soberly Enoch Harries, who, at this day, was the treasurer and head deacon of the chapel, spoke up against them to Eylwin Jones.
Had ye slain him it would have been an ill day for you, for Robin Hood would have harried your town as the kestrel harries the dovecote. I have bought the pipe of wine from him, and now I give it freely to you to drink as ye list. But never hereafterward fall upon a man for being a stout yeoman." At this all shouted amain; but in truth they thought more of the wine than of the Knight's words.
Pyenotchkin's at all; he's not the master there; Sofron's the master. 'You don't say so! 'He's master, just as if it were his own. The peasants all about are in debt to him; they work for him like slaves; he'll send one off with the waggons; another, another way.... He harries them out of their lives. 'They haven't much land, I suppose? 'Not much land!
Order you her to go quite respectable." Curtsying before Mrs. Harries, Martha said: "I am Tim Dafis' wife." "Oh, really. The person that is in charge of that funny little Welsh chapel." Mrs. Harries sat at a table. "Give me your girl's name, age, and names of previous employers for references."
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